


I'm Sticking With You

by rosewindow



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Curses, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-12
Updated: 2013-08-12
Packaged: 2017-12-23 05:20:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/922474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosewindow/pseuds/rosewindow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Deaton draws a few circles, and burns some herbs that Scott recognizes, but doesn’t really understand. Then he pokes and prods at them with an honest-to-god wand before sitting them down. “How much do you know about quantum entanglement?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Sticking With You

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this post:  
> http://rosewindow.tumblr.com/post/58026820173/someone-write-me-the-fic-where
> 
> Title thanks to Boxoftheskyking.
> 
> One of Stiles's lines thanks to my fabulous roomie.

Scott tackles Stiles to the ground just as the curse passes over them. He can feel the rush of wind as it slides past, and all the hair on his body stands on end - which is made more impressive by the fact that he’s shifted.

“Fuck! Dude, did it get you?” Stiles asks desperately, running his hands up Scott’s arms and over his head as if checking for wounds.

“No, no. I didn’t feel it stick. I think I’m okay. Did it get you?”

Stiles shakes his head. “I felt it, but no stickage.”

“Good,” Lydia says shortly, looming over them. “Maybe next time you can get off your asses and help me take down the wandering wizard.”

Her heels are sinking into the soft dirt and her shirt is torn. Scott and Stiles scramble to their feet and mumble apologies. She huffs off to the car where Isaac is regaining consciousness.

“Loft tonight?” Stiles asks, grabbing his kit from where it fell and checking the vials inside.

“Yeah. Definitely.”

\---

Scott wakes up in the wee hours of the morning with a sharp pain in his side. It recedes after a moment and he rolls onto his stomach, accidentally nudging Isaac with his elbow. A little later, Stiles climbs back into bed and Scott sleepily curls into him.

“Sorry bro,” Stiles whispers. “Had to take a piss.”

Scott murmurs something unintelligible, and they go back to sleep.

\---

Derek looks irritated, but unsurprised to see them the next morning. “Just wash the sheets this time,” he growls, before he vanishes for his morning run.

“That was _one time_!” Stiles hollers after him.

They stay in bed the rest of the morning, watching Netflix on Isaac’s laptop. Then they go to the diner on the edge of town for lunch. Scott crowds Stiles into the booth. Stiles groans and jabs his elbow into Scott’s ribs. Scott catches it and links their arms. Isaac gags. The waitress, who has just arrived, looks alarmed.

They order a frankly ridiculous amount of food - fighting evil always makes Scott hungry - and nearly get kicked out for messing with the jukebox.

“I don’t see what the problem was,” Stiles grumbles mutinously. “The jukebox is there to be used.”

“Yes, but people generally don’t like to hear the same song ten times in a row.”

“ _I_ like to.”

“Well, it’s been established that you’re weird,” Isaac says, ruffling his hair.

This leads to a wrestling match, with Stiles using all of his dirtiest tricks to get the upper hand. Scott watches them and laughs, until he notices a cop approaching.

“Isaac. Stiles,” he barks, and they break apart, laughing and pinching each other.

“Hey Anh,” Stiles says.

“It’s Deputy Vu when I’m on duty please.”

He salutes her and she rolls her eyes. “Can I have a word with you, Stiles?”

“Sure, yeah,” he says, laughter dropping off his face.

They step a little ways away, and Scott drifts after them. Not to listen in - they’d have to go quite a ways before he stopped being able to hear them anyway - just to offer Stiles moral support. He really does try not to listen; he and Isaac talk about college, keeping their backs respectfully turned, until Scott hears Stiles’s bright laugh.

“I’ll see you around, kid,” Deputy Vu says. “You boys stay out of trouble.”

“We are grown men,” Stiles protests.

She side-eyes them and walks away.

“Dad checking up on you?” Isaac asks, not even trying to pretend he hadn’t been eavesdropping.

“Yeah. I can’t do anything in this town.”

Scott slings an arm around his shoulders. “I do recall you hiding the whole werewolf thing for nearly a year. It’s understandable he wants to keep an eye on you.”

Stiles’s expression softens. “Yeah. He’s also working another shift tonight, so I’m gonna stay at yours.”

Scott grins. “Right on.”

\---

Isaac gets a phone call from Derek as they’re heading to Scott’s and his face darkens.

“Everything okay?” Scott asks.

“Yeah, yeah. Derek just needs help burying the body. Fuck. I did not agree to do this shit on my summer break. Can you drop me off at the Preserve?”

“You know,” points out Stiles, as he pulls a questionable U-turn, “It probably doesn’t bode well for our futures that the prospect of burying a dead body causes irritation and not, like, intense guilt or something.”

“Well. The guy _was_ an asshole.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be our moral center or something, Scott? True Alpha and all that?”

Scott shrugs. “ _I_ didn’t kill him.”

“There’s Derek’s car. Alright, I’ll see you later.”

Isaac hops out of the Jeep and dashes off into the woods at supernatural speeds.

“Freakin’ werewolves,” Stiles says with an eye roll.

Scott makes puppy dog eyes at Stiles. They stopped working on his mom once he hit puberty, but they actually started to work better on Stiles at about the same time. As anticipated, Stiles shoves him and grumbles, “Of course I don’t mean you, buddy. C’mon, I’ll buy your underaged ass some beers and we can use up the wolfsbane I’ve got left getting you buzzed.”

\---

The McCalls’ basement is semi-finished. There’s about half a room of carpet with a couch and a TV that both used to belong to his grandmother, and the rest is concrete floors, exposed pipes, and the furnace that still sort of freaks Scott out. The place does have the major advantage of being arranged so that the couch faces away from the door, meaning that should a parent suddenly appear, beers can be hidden and hands can be removed from under clothing without anyone being the wiser. It saved Scott a lot of embarrassment when he and Allison were still dating. Speaking of.

“Have you heard from Allison lately?” Scott asks, taking a swig of the beer Stiles has doctored up.

“I haven’t, but Lydia said she got a postcard the other day. Apparently she helped some locals take down a rogue Omega, and accidentally started a bar fight.”

Scott laughs. “I can’t wait to hear that story.”

“Man. We’re not going to have _any_ cool stories from this summer. What’s happened so far? We cowered on the ground while Lydia beat up a wizard, and then we watched movies and cuddled on the couch. What kind of a summer is that?”

“Um, the best kind,” Scott insists, tucking an arm around Stiles’s shoulder. “Anyway, we aren’t cuddling.”

“Yet.”

Stiles’s phone buzzes. Scott can feel it against his hip, but neither of them move to get it. Scott tries not to think about the wizard, about how close that curse - whatever it was - came to getting Stiles. It’s over now; Stiles is here and safe, that’s all that matters.

When Melissa comes back from the evening shift she finds them in Scott’s bed in a passed out tangle of limbs.

\---

Scott and Stiles both have messages on their phones from Deaton the next morning, so they head over to the vet’s office together. Stiles doesn’t like the new assistant, and he keeps giving Scott pointed glances while Scott catches up with her, though he doesn’t leave Scott’s side. Scott ignores him - a fact that is easier said than done. Something about Stiles’s presence demands that you pay attention to him.

“Finally!” Stiles crows, dragging him into the back the second the girl has to answer the phone.

“Lydia says you got hit,” Deaton says, pointing to an email.

“How does she get those reports done so fast?” Stiles asks, disbelievingly.

“‘Grazed’ is a more accurate term,” Scott insists. “We’re fine. Haven’t noticed any ill effects.”

“Hmm. How’s your kit, Stiles?”

Scott’s gotten used to Deaton’s abrupt, seemingly random changes of topic, but Stiles still flails everytime.

“Fine, fine. I used up a fair amount of mountain ash though, and all my wolfsbane, and of course I can always use more eye of newt,” he says, with an eye roll he probably thinks is subtle.

“Go get your bag; I’ll fill it up,” Deaton says.

Stiles shrugs and leaves the office. A few seconds later, there’s a searing pain in Scott’s side and a yelp from outside the door.

“Just as I suspected,” Deaton says, while Stiles staggers back into the room and practically throws himself at Scott.

“What the hell was that?”

“The curse,” Deaton says, unhelpfully. “Frankly, I’m a little amazed you haven’t noticed until now.”

He gives them a sharp look, nods, and hums knowingly. Sometimes, Scott wants to smack him.

“Let me run some tests,” he says, and vanishes into the back.

“What do you think’s going on?” Scott asks.

“I don’t know. Some sort of proximity thing? I mean, I haven’t left your side since the other night.”

“Huh.”

Deaton draws a few circles, and burns some herbs that Scott recognizes, but doesn’t really understand. Then he pokes and prods at them with an honest-to-god wand before sitting them down. “How much do you know about quantum entanglement?”

Scott blinks at Stiles, who shrugs.

“As far as I can tell, the curse was meant to cause excruciating pain. In one party. Because you two were touching, and also didn’t get the full impact of the curse, the effect was transmuted. I’ll have to do some more research, but my guess would be you can’t go more than about five yards from each other without experiencing pain.”

“Oh.”

Scott looks over at Stiles.

“Well that’ll be- tricky.”

\---

Stiles is sprawled across Scott’s bed, tapping a pen against his teeth. Scott is watching him from his desk chair.

“Okay, so this summer shouldn’t be too much of a problem. We’ll tell your mom and my dad, and alternate nights or weeks or something? When the semester starts up again, we’ll have some problems though. I wonder if it’s too late to transfer... and our schedules will have to match...”

He makes grabby hands, and Scott passes over his laptop.

“If a transfer doesn’t work, I could take a semester off-” Scott offers.

Stiles glares at him. “No way, dude. We’ll figure this out.” He resumes frowning at the screen.

Scott stands up slowly, checks to make sure the door is locked, and equally slowly sits down beside Stiles. He rests one hand between Stiles’s shoulder blades and Stiles shifts a little closer, but doesn’t look up.

“I’m sorry,” Scott whispers.

That makes Stiles look up. “What? Dude, no! It’s not your fault.”

“I pushed you down, that caused the curse to latch onto both of us.”

Stiles surges up at that and takes Scott’s face in his hands. “Scott Howard McCall. You are my best friend, and my favorite supernatural creature, and it is _not your fault_ that some asshole wizard was wandering around the woods cursing people. Okay?”

“I could have handled the solo curse,” Scott mutters.

Stiles executes the most dramatic eye roll that Scott has seen to date - and there have been some strong contenders. “You’re an idiot,” he insists, and kisses Scott.

Stiles guides him down onto the mattress and envelops him in long limbs. Tonight Stiles kisses slow and deep, and without an apparent end goal. Or rather, without a physical end goal. Clearly, the desired result of this is for Scott is stop acting like a martyr, a feature of his personality that Stiles has complained about on multiple occasions. It’s just hard when Stiles is so breakable, and Scott’s always had a protective streak, even back in the days of asthma and training wheels.

This thing with Stiles isn’t new - it arguably dates back to those asthma days as well - but it’s also not exactly defined. They don’t talk about it except in the moment, and even then the most they manage is “Is this okay?” and “Can I-?” and “ _Yes_.” Maybe the curse will make them talk about it, because Scott is literally willing to rearrange his life for Stiles, and Stiles has already proven that he’ll rearrange his life for Scott. This has got to be bigger than first kisses and mutual handjobs.

Scott slips his hand under Stiles’s shirt and presses his palm against the firm, steady beat of his heart.

“I love you,” he whispers against Stiles’s lips, and he can feel the flutter of his heart.

Stiles kisses him again, firmer and deeper, licks into his mouth, and Scott lets him. Opens up and tries, however futilely, to hold all of Stiles inside.

\---

It takes about a week for Stiles, Lydia, and Deaton to discover a counter curse, and another three days to craft it, during which Stiles and Scott don’t leave each other’s sides. The counter curse unfortunately involves the digging up of the wizard’s body which is something Scott hopes he never has to do again. Or at least that the next corpse will have been buried for much, much longer than a week. Isaac nearly pukes. Derek just looks pissed that he’s going to have to re-bury the bastard.

Stiles has to come along of course, but he gets out of digging by working on prep for the other ingredients.

“Why couldn’t Deaton do this?” Stiles grumbles. “He’s the actual Emissary. I’m just like, the probationary Emissary. The apprentice Emissary. The unpaid intern Emissary. The-”

“Please stop talking, or you won’t be anyone’s Emissary,” Derek growls.

“Hey buddy, that’s Scott’s call. And he’s stuck with me now.”

Scott smiles up at Stiles, who shakes his head with a twisted grin. “No one should look that happy while digging up a body, dude. I’m worried about you.”

“Both of you shut up and get to work.”

“Fine, fine, Mr. Sourwolf,” Stiles snarks. “Just remember, I’ve got wolfsbane here and I’m not afraid to use it.”

Scott throws a handful of dirt at him, and Stiles splutters. “I’ll leave, dude,” he threatens.

Scott rolls his eyes. “No you won’t.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I won’t.”

\---

Scott jerks awake to the sound of his window being pried open from the outside. Someone falls into the room, and Scott is half shifted before Stiles’s scent hits his nose.

“Jesus man, you could just use the front door. Why are you breaking into my house?”

“I’m trying to break into your heart,” Stiles pouts.

Scott stares at him for a long moment before bursting into hysterical laughter and nearly falling off the bed.  
“Oh my god. That is like, the best thing anyone’s ever said to me. Seriously. Oh man.”

Stiles starts grinning and flops on top of Scott. “Shut up, wolfy.”

Scott leans up and kisses him softly. “I missed you too.”

Stiles grimaces. “It’s only been like four hours, but it was weird, not being close to you.”

“I know the feeling.”

“Can I, sleep with you tonight?”

Scott raises an eyebrow at him.

“Not like that. Actually sleep. I’ve got important shit I have to do tomorrow?”

“And what’s that?” Scott asks incredulously, curling back onto his side, his face close to Stiles’s and one arm over his hip.

Stiles smiles. “Watch movies and cuddle with you.”

“Good answer.”

\---

END

**Author's Note:**

> I'm "rosewindow" on tumblr too; stop by and say hey!


End file.
